


Dreaming of Paradise

by left_to_write



Category: Death in Paradise
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-19 00:56:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4726751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/left_to_write/pseuds/left_to_write
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young woman keeps having dreams about a faraway island and a man she once loved, while a middle-aged man struggles with strange recurrent experiences that hint at another existence and a beautiful mysterious woman. Can they figure out what it all means and how to find their way back to a paradise lost?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In this piece I am experimenting with something completely different from my usual stories, so I admit I'm not sure how it will go. It does contain mild references to unusual phenomena and has some slightly supernatural elements.

 

Waking up with a start, Millie turned over and glanced at her bedside clock: only 5:30am, she groaned to herself. It was too early to get up for work, but too late to get a proper full night's sleep now. The dream was still fresh in her mind and as vivid as the first time she had dreamt it. It was undeniably a pleasant dream in that it evoked beautiful blue/green seas, palm trees and golden (and white) sands; but the recurring nature of it puzzled and unsettled Millie, especially as each dream seemed to expand on the previous one.

There had been hints from the very beginning of a male figure in what looked like a dark suit, but the occurrences were fleeting and until last night she hadn't got a good look at his face. Increasingly a bit more detail would emerge, such as his height and build and the fact that he had brown hair and apparently fair skin. But in this latest dream he had actually turned around and faced her, and she found herself mesmerised by striking green eyes and the merest hint of a slightly lopsided smile.

Facing this man had startled Millie to the point of jolting her awake, and she was aware that she was shaking. Where was this place that kept repeatedly inserting itself into her sleep time and, more disturbingly, who was this man whose presence had become increasingly vital and centre stage in these night-time visions?

Forcing herself to lie still and try to get back to sleep, Millie closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind of such thoughts.

 

                    +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

 "Hey Edward, are you coming for a drink with us after work? Sam's leaving and we need to give him a good send off," said a cheerful voice in the office.

"Uh...I'm not sure...I have a lot of reading and stuff to catch up with..." came the hesitant reply. _Too bad it's not Doug who's_ _leaving,_ Edward thought.

"Oh come on, don't be such a stick in the mud! Work can wait till Monday," insisted Edward's jovial colleague, Gary.

"Well, maybe. I'll have to see how it goes, if that's alright."

"Yeah right. Well, it's at the White Hart if you deign to join us," teased Gary.

Edward surveyed his tidy desk in the medium-sized open plan office on the third floor of the building in which he worked as a civil servant. He supposed his reading could wait, but he wasn't really the most sociable guy in the world and felt uncomfortable in crowds, especially when most of the people were rather the worse for wear with drink. He also was somewhat averse to environments that tended to generate heat; those hot flushes he'd been having for the last few weeks were not something he wanted to have triggered by a room full of hot and sweaty colleagues.

Nevertheless, he decided to make an effort and join the gang at the start of the weekend. He just hoped that those unwelcome intrusions into his body's equilibrium didn't appear. Honestly, it was bad enough experiencing sudden waves of heat like a menopausal woman, but the momentary flashes in his mind's eye of actual sea waves and sand (ugh!) and palm trees made him shudder. And they were getting more frequent and more vivid as well. The only positive was the mysterious dark beauty whose face was still somewhat elusive but who, he felt sure, was almost enticing him to follow her...

Edward debated whether to confide in any of his workmates, then decided that would not be a good idea. They tolerated him and were passably cordial, but they did think him a bit of an oddball and he didn't need to lose their respect any further. 

_Am I cracking up?_ he wondered. _Maybe I should see a doctor. It must be stress - work has been very stressful and demanding for the last few months, after all. And yet.........._

 

                    +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

 "Don't forget it's Lorraine's birthday today - drinks down at the White Hart later. See you after my shift, okay?" Teresa was Millie's favourite co-worker and the life and soul of any party.

"Sure, see you around 6.30 ish. Not worth my going home to change first either, so I'll just have a quick freshen up in the ladies' here and join you later."

Several hours later, Millie, Teresa and a number of their colleagues all trouped down to the White Hart pub in Croydon, because that was where the birthday girl lived, and since she would be somewhat the worse for drink after all the rounds she would be bought, it was considered wise that she not have far to get home afterwards.

After the first round, Millie went up to the bar to get the next one and started back towards their table with a tray full of liquid treats. On the way towards her friends, something caught her eye and distracted her, causing her to momentarily fail to watch where she was going.

"Uh, careful there," said a voice. Clearly she had just bumped into someone and she looked up to apologise.

"Oh God, sorry. Have I spilled drink on you?" she asked, both embarrassed and concerned at her temporary lapse in concentration.

"No, you're alright. Just missed me, thanks to the tray, which looks a bit wet, though," came the reply.

She started to smile with remorseful gratitude, and was struck by the man's expressive green eyes and slightly crooked smile.

"Thanks - and sorry again." She stared at him for a moment, but had to avert her gaze when she felt her tummy gripped by a sudden knot in it.

"No problem." He was frowning slightly now, but not, apparently, with annoyance. He was bewildered by something about Millie and needed a few moments to sort himself out.

As she walked past him in the direction of the party table, Edward couldn't help feeling that the beautiful brown eyes and caramel complexion seemed vaguely familiar. He couldn't think where at first, and then it hit him. This stunning young woman was the spitting image of the exotic beauty who kept popping up in his mind with increasing frequency.

_Honestly, I really am going to have to see a doctor if this carries on_ , he thought to himself.

 

In the meantime, Millie had re-joined her workmates and was distributing what was left of the drinks to them.

"Are you alright, girl?" asked Teresa. "Only you seem a bit, um, distracted or something. And how come my glass is only three quarters full? Don't tell me that new bloke behind the bar is skimping on measures?" she asked jokingly.

"What? Oh no, sorry; I kind of bumped into this guy and some of them spilled a bit. Here, have some of mine. It's the same white wine." Millie replied.

"Don't be daft, I was only kidding. But seriously, are you okay? You kind of looked for a moment as if you'd seen a ghost."

"Well, it was just something about that man. He..."

"Oh, I see," smirked Teresa. "Fancied him, did we?"

"No! Don't be stupid," snapped Millie, feeling defensive now. In truth, she was unnerved because the man with the lopsided smile and the unforgettable eyes was the embodiment of the one who had been invading her dreams.

_Why do I feel as if I already know him?_

She looked round her to see if she could spot him and found him looking in her direction. As their eyes met, they both instinctively looked away shyly, the way strangers usually do when they are caught off guard.

 

"Edward, are you going to say goodbye to Sam or are you just going to ogle the women here?" asked Pete, one of Edward's co-workers.

Edward spun round sharply to see Pete gesturing towards Millie.

"And there I was, thinking you only had eyes for work. Of course, if it's a bit of skirt you're after, Angela there has had it bad for you for ages."

Edward grunted, mildly disgusted at both his colleague's perceived vulgarity, and the thought of Angela as a potential love interest.

At this point Gary came over and stood next to him.

"You alright, mate? You're obviously here in body only; your mind is clearly elsewhere. Do you hate parties that much?" Gary asked.

"Oh...um...no, it's not that..." stammered Edward.

"Well then, what is it? Someone walk over your grave or something?"

Edward shuddered. "No, and that's not funny," he replied coldly. He decided he'd had enough of the lads' ribbing, and walked over towards the one person in the room who appeared friendly and interesting, not to mention beautiful and appealing. And inexplicably familiar...

 

_Oh no, he's coming this way! What do I say? Come on, you're smart and sassy when you want to be, you'll think of something. I hope._

"Hi, sorry about earlier," she said as a conversation opener.

"Like I said before, no problem. My suit wasn't splashed at all," Edward answered in conciliatory manner. Then he added, "Um...would...I mean...can I get you a drink? Or...I..er...I can see that you're having a bit of a party there. Actually, so are we. Office leaving do...for a guy who's...leaving..."

For a man who was so confident and focused at work, he was having extraordinary difficulty in getting his words out properly. "By the way, I'm Edward," he added, by way of introduction.

Millie smiled. "Hi, I'm Millie."

Edward thought his heart had momentarily stopped. She had the most gorgeous dazzling smile he had ever seen on anyone, even the lovely Sasha, his former girlfriend (well, almost girlfriend).

He tried to think of something intelligent to say. "So, Millie, what do you do for a living?"

"Well, I guess you could call me a civil servant," she replied somewhat cautiously.

"Really? So am I, as a matter of fact."

Millie had assumed it was that sort of job - either that or perhaps a solicitor - considering the formal kind of suit he had on. He had obviously also come straight from work.

She hoped he couldn't hear her heart start to thump loudly as his gaze sent tingles down her spine - partly because his eyes were green and sexy, and partly because they just seemed so unsettlingly familiar.

"Um..." she began. "Have we ever met before? Only, you do seem rather...familiar...I hope you don't mind my asking," she continued a bit diffidently.

"Oh!" he said, a little startled by her question. _Why on earth would she say that?? Maybe we have met before, but I'm sure I would have remembered her if we had...._

He went on, "I must admit you do seem a bit...familiar...to me, too, but surely..." He was now tongue-tied.

"Yes, quite. Well, I'm called Millie, but it's short for 'Camilla'," she proffered. "I'm afraid I don't recall ever knowing an 'Edward'."

"Actually, 'Edward' is my middle name, but...it was useful at school since there were a lot of boys in my year with the same name as me and...I wasn't keen on the choice of nicknames...

"My first name is 'Richard'."

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

"Oh come on, Millie. Don't turn it into something that it isn't. You probably spoke to the guy at a party sometime, or met him through work, or even sat next to him on the bus or the tube. People's subconscious minds hold zillions of bits of memory and experience, and there's loads of stuff stored in there that we don't or can't consciously remember," insisted Amy Fredericks, Millie's best pal since childhood.

It was now Sunday, two days since her encounter with Edward - her erstwhile mystery man - and Millie was trying, although not altogether successfully, to explain it to Amy. She hadn't told anyone yet about her dreams, and wouldn't have mentioned them even to Amy if she hadn't happened to have met Edward at the White Hart the other evening.

"You really think that's all it could have been?" Millie adored her friend, and normally trusted her opinion implicitly, but in this case she remained unconvinced. She just knew in her bones that there was more significance to the riddle of the fascinating stranger with the familiar face who had been haunting her dreams, than a series of random - albeit coincidental - encounters.

"Of course. What else - logically speaking - could it be?"

"I don't know, Amy, but why would I have been having all those recurring dreams about him? I mean, it's not as if I'd met or seen someone I was attracted to, and then couldn't get him out of my head? And another thing: I got the distinct impression that he had a similar feeling about me. He had this...um...unusual expression on his face. Kind of like he recognised me, but not quite, and he admitted that I seemed familiar to him too."

Amy sighed. "Millie, when are you going to realise that you are very beautiful and very attractive to men? He probably fancied you and it was a good chat up line. And since _you_ said the 'excuse-me-but-you-seem-familiar' thing first, well, you as good as handed it to him on a platter. Take it from me, he was probably smitten; most guys are when they see you."

Millie blushed and then shrugged slightly in resignation. "Thanks kiddo, maybe you're right. I don't mean about being beautiful," she added quickly, not wanting to sound conceited, "but about him...possibly liking me."

Amy smiled and raised her eyebrows. "What was he like, then? Tall, dark and handsome? Gorgeous? A hunk?" she asked encouragingly.

"No, none of those things. For a start, he was more middle-aged - well, in early middle age, not old, but not young. Not very tall either, nor even particularly handsome, but he had the most amazing eyes that seemed to be a mixture of friendly and intelligent and...sort of...penetrating."

"Penetrating?!" laughed Amy. "Wow girl, you must have taken quite a shine to him!"

Millie opened her mouth to protest but was cut short.

"No, no, don't deny it, I've known you too long for you to fool me, Camilla Border. I know a crush when I see one."

At this last remark, Millie was surprised to feel her hackles rise somewhat. Although she and Amy had for years giggled and confided in each other about just about any and every subject under the sun, Millie was disappointed and frustrated that on this occasion Amy didn't quite seem to understand that what drew her to Edward went far deeper than a crush or physical attraction. In fact, she wasn't aware of harbouring any romantic feelings towards him whatsoever; only the uncanny and unshakeable sense that she had known him...well...on another plane, if that were possible.

"Don't be ridiculous, it's not like that, I told you. Anyway, he's not my type at all. He seemed kind of the stiff and starchy type, actually, not the kind of guy you could take to a party or anything. I only met him at all because I bumped into him and nearly tipped the drinks all over him."

"Ooh, good move. You're making him sound a bit uptight now; was he cross - or did he offer to let you make it up to him?" Amy shot Millie a cheeky grin.

"Oh, just forget it." Millie shook her head, regretting that she ever brought it up. 

"Look, seriously, I think you're probably overworked or stressed for some other reason. Stress accounts for a lot of odd thoughts and behaviour."

"Gee, thanks," snorted Millie, and changed the subject.

              

                       +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

 On Sunday evening, Edward fetched himself a bottle of beer from the fridge and sank down in his favourite armchair in the front room of his house in a London suburb. Being a typical Englishman, he didn't normally drink cold beer but, given the hot flushes he'd been experiencing for the past couple of months, he'd taken to keeping them in the fridge and enjoying them better chilled.

Ever since the send-off for his colleague at the White Hart, Edward had been unable to stop thinking about the woman who had bumped into him  - literally - that evening. It wasn't just that she was so striking looking. Well, beautiful, he had to admit to himself. It was that her face with the expressive chocolate-coloured eyes, smooth brown complexion framed by lovely cascading black curls, and dazzling white smile had been that of the mysterious stunner in his visions.

The glimpses he'd had of her visage had increased in clarity and frequency more recently, so by the time he came face to face with the lovely lady who'd introduced herself as 'Millie', he recognised her after a few short moments of scanning his memory bank. And he was shaken to the core.

_Why is this happening to me? WHAT is happening to me??_

 

The following morning Edward was called into his supervisor's office at approximately 9:15am.

"Hello Peale, good of you to come in. Please, have a seat." He gestured towards a chair, inviting Edward to sit.

"Good morning, Sir," Edward replied courteously, curious about the morning chat. As a rule, his boss would schedule a weekly or perhaps monthly strategy meeting with the whole team, but this morning seemed to be different.

"If you're wondering why I've asked you in at this time, it's concerning the Hillman case. I know you and the team have been doing sterling work on tracking down the hidden assets so that the Met can bring criminal charges. Well, it seems there is also a benefits fraud dimension to add to the mix; those Hillmans are quite an unsavoury family. Anyway, the DWP want us to send someone over to liaise with one of their investigators so, as our most effective team leader, I have proposed to send you.

"Meanwhile, the boys in blue will no doubt be approaching the CPS to see if they would be able to proceed with a triple-stranded prosecution should there be sufficient evidence from all three of our government departments.

"What's the world coming to, eh? You start out with a bit of good old-fashioned tax evasion, but it doesn't stop there. Oh no, the next thing you know it has turned into benefits cheating and dealing in stolen property." His boss, Buchanan, was old school, and viewed with increasing disgust and dismay the explosion of greed and dishonesty he felt he was witnessing in society.

Edward frowned, trying to grasp the main thrust of what his boss was telling him. "You mean someone from the DWP is investigating the Hillmans at the same time as we are, and wants to work alongside us?"

"That's correct, and you should get there within the hour, all being well, and then she can fill you in on the situation."

 _"'_ She'?" Edward didn't know why he felt a sudden twinge of anticipation.

"Yes, and she's allegedly quite a looker too," Buchanan said with a wry smile. "So just be sure to keep your mind on the job, Peale."

 

 It was 10 o'clock by the time Richard Edward Peale was announced at the Reception desk of the building that housed the DWP and was duly shown to an office on the second floor.

As the young woman nearest the door turned to greet him, they both nearly got the shock of their lives when Edward found himself looking straight into the beautiful velvet brown eyes of Camilla Marlene Border, as did she when she found herself gazing up into his mesmerizing green eyes.

Recovering herself as quickly as she could, Millie extended her hand to him and smiled. "Good morning, Mr Peale, and thank you so much for coming to see us here; if you don't mind, we'd like to bring you up to speed with our evidence on the Hillman case asap. I'm Camilla Border - but please do call me 'Millie' if you're comfortable with that.

Smiling rather reservedly in return, he shook her hand and replied, "Yes, thank you, Millie. And it's 'Edward'."

 

Not long after this formal introduction, Millie briefed Edward on their suspicions and the gathered record of evidence regarding the Hillman family. In addition to hiding their assets from the taxman (ie Edward, in this instance) in various offshore accounts, Mr Hillman, the patriarch of the small 'clan', had also been claiming incapacity benefit even though he was moonlighting as a builder, and Millie's team had photographic proof of him on rooftops.

There were also several other fraudulent claims attributable to the family and so, after putting their professional heads together, Miss Border and Mr Peale were confident of compiling a good case for the prosecuting authorities. The Metropolitan Police, no doubt, would be only too happy to add their own discoveries regarding the Hillmans' propensity for receiving stolen goods to the growing list of offences.

 

Sipping tea (for Edward) and coffee (for Millie) in as quiet a corner as possible of her office, Millie dropped the professional persona and spoke to Edward in somewhat more candid fashion.

"I was so surprised when it was you who walked in this morning, Edward. Is it still alright to call you that?" she asked with an air of slight insecurity.

Edward smiled diffidently. "Yes, of course; and that was quite a surprise for me too," he replied with considerable understatement.

Not being sure of what to say next, he came out with a variation on a cliché. "Do you go to the White Hart often?" and then groaned with a touch of embarrassment. "Oh no, that wasn't meant to come out sounding like that." _Damn, why do you always have to be so awkward with attractive women?_

Millie didn't seem to notice. "Not really. It was a colleague's birthday and as that's more or less in her neighbourhood, it seemed better not to let her get plastered too far from home," she explained.

"...Um...I...uh...hope you didn't think _I_ was drunk when I bumped into you. It's just that I wasn't looking where I was going properly..." she added, feeling somewhat uncomfortable at both the memory of walking into him and spilling the drinks, and the disconcerting effect Edward's current proximity was having on her.

Little did Millie know that he was equally troubled by her appearance in _his_ life. "No, I didn't think that, I can assure you," he said.

Then, unable to contain his own little obsession with his visions, he blurted out, "I...um..have been thinking about what you said that evening about seeming familiar. I have to admit that it did - does - feel as if we've somehow met before."

He took a deep breath, not wanting to scare her off. "And... I'm not quite sure how to put this, but there have been other things too. Unusual things," he ventured bravely.

"What sort of things?" she asked, her curiosity piqued further.

"Um...well... kind of like...sensations of heat and um...sort of like a hot climate. Maybe a beach and palm trees too." He looked at her a trice pleadingly, silently hoping she might understand.

 _Oh God, now I sound like a total freak,_ he said to himself.

But to his amazement, she simply exclaimed, "Yes, me too! Sand and tropical blue seas and...oh, thank God! You've seen it too!"

They stared at each other in disbelief.

"This can't be happening." Edward's reserved and 'sensible' (and slightly pedantic) side suddenly attempted to come to the rescue in the situation. "They've probably put something in the water that's making people hallucinate," he huffed.

"Perhaps," conceded Millie, "but why are you and I apparently having the same visions or dreams? And how come each of us thought the other seemed to be unusually familiar even though we'd never met before Friday evening?"

"I don't know, but... maybe we ought to consult someone about it? I can't talk to anyone at work about much, and there's no one at home."

_And Mum is a fusspot as it is; she'd just get even more beside herself with worry, and Dad would probably try and have me sectioned if I told him._

"What about you?" he continued, "do you have anyone trustworthy to confide in?"

"Well, I tried talking to my best friend about it, but she thought it was all in my imagination. But you don't, do you, Richard?"

They both gave a little start at that.

"Oh no, now why did I just call you 'Richard'?! I know you told me it was your real name - well, your first name - but I never called you that when we met, did I?"

He shook his head. Something in his unconscious mind seemed to stir and he said slowly, "You know, I wouldn't mind being called 'Richard', really. It's just that there's this idiot in our office who would almost certainly end up calling me 'Dick' or 'Dickie' if I went by 'Richard'."

Millie was thinking hard about all the new and mysterious sensations that their conversation was stirring up, when one of her co-workers shouted something out loud for the whole office to hear.

" _Oh for pity's sake! When are they going to fix this bloody photocopier?! And where's that new guy who's supposed to sort out the equipment and stuff around here? 'Wayne,' isn't that his name_?? _Or is it 'Dwayne'?"_

At this outburst - and specifically the mention of that latest name - the sound of two mugs dropping to the floor could be heard.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DWP stands for Department for Work and Pensions, which replaced the former Department of [Health and] Social Security.  
> CPS stands for Crown Prosecution Service.


	3. Chapter 3

 

Back at home in her flat after work that day, Millie did an internet search for anything to do with paranormal experiences: reincarnation, parallel universes, time warps, etc. She didn't dare do it during the day as she didn't want anyone else to ask what she was up to, and even her lunch break would not have afforded her enough time to get really stuck in.

Having read umpteen different opinions on the various phenomena, from the outlandish to the out-and-out sceptical, she realised that what she wanted most was someone intelligent to talk to. Someone who had some knowledge or experience of the matter, and who wasn't either a total nutcase, or a complete cynic.

At last she was rewarded for her efforts; there was listed a 'Professor Henry Lawrence', whose entry described him as a retired lecturer of particle physics, with an interest in the paranormal. He had written several papers on the latter, in addition to his more conventional subject, and was subsequently ridiculed for the most part by both the scientific establishment and the mainstream religious bodies. 

To Millie's surprise, Lawrence's address was disclosed and she decided to drop him a line in the rather faint (she believed) hope that he might actually get back to her and even agree to speak with her.

 

                      +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Poring over his latest book of cryptic crossword puzzles, Edward heard his mobile phone ring.

He looked down at the screen and frowned a little in surprise: 'Millie' was the name displayed.

"Hello? Millie?"

"Hi Edward. I hope I'm not disturbing you, but I was wondering if I could see you again fairly soon? There's something I'd really like to talk to you about. I'm sure you can guess what it is..."

"Does that mean what I think it means? It's not work-related, in other words?" Of course he knew that had it been about work, Millie would simply have rung him at the office.

"No, it's not work-related. It's about...you know..."

Edward sighed. In spite of the strange phenomena he'd been experiencing, the whole thing was becoming unbearably uncomfortable for him, especially ever since he had met Millie. And the embarrassment over the dropped cups of tea/coffee had been the latest source of discomfort.

"Millie, I hope you don't think me rude, but I really feel that we've been getting too carried away with all that...stuff. Your friend was probably right: we've both been under a lot of stress at work and..."

Millie was crestfallen, but determined to keep trying. "I...I know it seems that way, but honestly I really think we shouldn't just dismiss it out of hand. We both know that we've been experiencing things that go beyond coincidence. _The same things._ Please, can't we meet up and talk about it? I really need to. Please?"

Edward was confused. Here was this beautiful young woman who had appeared in his life unexpectedly, and she seemed almost desperate to see him. He felt sure this wasn't a ploy to get him on a date; she was far too confident (and too stunning) to need to resort to such pathetic tactics, and anyway, he knew he wasn't exactly love's young dream.

He argued with himself over it for a couple of seconds. _Come on, what have you got to lose, apart from your sanity? If a lovely, intelligent woman wants to see you, why look a gift horse in the mouth? How many other offers have you got?_

"Okay, what about tomorrow? Would you like to meet outside Foyles bookshop? We could chat in St. James's Park, weather permitting?" he suggested. Luckily, the next day was Saturday, so there would be no day job to intrude.

"Brilliant, thanks Edward! The forecast is good, so that should be okay. How about 12 o'clock, at the main entrance on Charing Cross Road?"

"Fine, see you then, Millie. Bye."

"Bye for now!"

Edward hung up and shook his head, wondering about the mystery of a woman's mind.

 

Just as the weather forecast had predicted, the following day was fine and both Millie and Edward were on time.

"Hi Edward! Thanks for coming."

"Hi Millie. How are you?"

"I'm great - and I've brought lunch too. Well, sandwiches and stuff. I figured we could always get a coffee or something later. Is that okay?"

Her smile was bright and infectious and, although he hadn't really wanted to meet up with her in such circumstances, Edward couldn't help being drawn to her warmth and beauty.

"Yes, okay. Um...let's walk over to the park and we can find a seat, hopefully."

 

Munching on their semi picnic-style lunch, Edward spoke first.

"Well, Millie, what's on your mind now? I mean, I know you've been wanting to talk about the...uh...strange phenomena or whatever, but I kind of got the feeling there was something more?"

"Yes. When I got home on Monday evening, I Googled 'paranormal experiences' and similarly related topics, and there was quite a lot on there. But the thing that really got my attention was this Professor chap. He's a retired physicist and lecturer, and he's written various papers on the subject. It's been somewhat of an obsession with him, a lifelong quest for understanding of the paranormal or supernatural."

Edward flinched. This kind of thing was really not up his street, to say the least.

Millie went on, "I know, Edward, it sounds pretty weird to me too, but it's been bugging me so much and for so long now that I felt I had to talk to someone about it, and he seemed the most knowledgeable. At least, I hoped that if I could manage to contact him and tell him about it, I might get a sympathetic hearing. And, more importantly, some sort of explanation - or at least an intelligent theory."

"Well, if he's retired, he may have stopped all that. When was the last time anything he wrote on the subject was published?"

"I think about ten years ago - but Edward, I did get hold of him by letter and he phoned me yesterday! He was intrigued and _he's agreed to talk to me about it!"_ Millie could barely contain her excitement.

Clearly this was more than he had expected. "So, are you going to see him in person? Or just talk by phone?"

"He said it would be easier in person, and I agree with him. He's invited me to his house tomorrow!"

"Millie, I understand that this is very exciting for you, but have you thought about the possible implications - or consequences - of going to see a complete stranger? Just because he's a retired lecturer doesn't mean he might not want to...er...," Edward blushed, "take advantage of an attractive young lady."

"Edward! He's 75 years old and, according to his biography, has had quite bad arthritis for over 15 years. I could take him in three seconds flat if he tried any funny business." Millie was proud of her physical strength and athletic prowess. Come to think of it, she thought idly, she could probably take Edward in a fist fight too, if it came down to it.

"Sounds a bit like the stereotypical Mad Professor, if you ask me," said Edward dismissively.

Millie's eyes flashed with indignation. She'd worked quite hard to track down this man and she wanted to meet him.

"Well, no one is asking you! I'm going to go and see him and...and...you're invited too, if you want to come, but not if you're going to be rude to him."

_Blimey, she's feistier than I thought._

He sighed with resignation. He certainly didn't want to admit that those unsettling visions of his might have some sort of 'paranormal' explanation (he preferred to conclude that it was an unusual symptom of indigestion or stress), and he was even less inclined to go and visit a retired Professor of mumbo-jumbo.

But the latent 'Sir Galahad' in him was uneasy at the prospect of this lovely (and, in his opinion, credulous) young woman walking into a potential cobra's nest.

"What time are you going?" he asked her.

"He's expecting me/us at 2 o'clock tomorrow afternoon. Just after his lunch, he said."

"And where does he live? Is it far?"

"Are you questioning me, Edward? I _can_ look after myself, you know." Millie didn't want to alienate her new friend (especially as she was absolutely sure he was the man in her dreams) but, on the other hand, she knew she was a big girl and could make her own decisions. She certainly didn't need his permission to consult anyone over this, even if they were both sharing a strange mutual experience.

"For goodness' sake, Millie, I only meant that I'll come with you if it's not an unreasonably long way. That is, if you still want me to." Now it was _his_ turn to sound a bit sulky.

She smiled sheepishly and, in a gesture that was unconsciously flirtatious, looked up at him through gorgeous lush black lashes. "Oh, sorry. He lives in Hampstead, so it's not far at all. Just a few stops on the Northern Line."

_God, she's beautiful when she does that._

"Okay, you're on. Shall I pick you up or do you want to meet somewhere public?"

_Oh, what a gentleman, even if he is a bit stuffy at times. And those eyes....._

         

                      +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Professor Lawrence greeted them both enthusiastically.

"Come in, come on through," he pointed to his living room. "You don't know what a treat it is for me to have company, and especially people who are interested in the paranormal. Now, would you like a coffee or anything?"

Edward thanked him and asked for tea, while Millie accepted the offer of coffee.

"Excellent, excellent, now do please sit down and tell me all about it."

Edward studied the retired physicist. In his opinion, Lawrence looked as if he were straight out of a novel, the archetype Einstein character, only far more eccentric.

After recounting their respective - and mutual - experiences to him, Lawrence knitted his brows in concentration before beginning his take on things.

"That is a very interesting situation. Very interesting indeed. I know that some people have thought I was quite barking, but over the years I have become more and more convinced that there is a fourth dimension, and I suspect it has somehow broken through into _your_ lives. That dimension is 'time' and it is a mystery. We always tend to think of time as being linear, but what if it's lateral as well?"

"What do you mean?" asked a fascinated Millie.

"Well, I believe there may be another sphere of existence that runs parallel to this one - sort of like another plane. And normally there is an invisible barrier between the two, but occasionally there may be chinks or tears or weaknesses of some sort in this barrier, allowing us to get glimpses of our existence in another world."

Edward tried hard not to roll his eyes. _Good grief, I've never heard such mumbo-jumbo in my life._

"Look, no offence, Professor..." He could see Millie glaring at him out of the corner of his eye as he spoke. "But how can anyone know this? And why stop at two parallel existences? Why not dozens, or even more?"

Professor Lawrence was unruffled; he had been used to sceptical questioning, and Edward's was mild compared to most.

"Well, how many different types of strange experiences have you both had? I mean, you both described a picture of very warm sunshine, sands, tropical seas, palm trees, etc. That speaks to me of one type of place or experience. And remember, _both_ of you have been feeling it more or less for the same amount of time - about a few weeks now, isn't it?"

"I suppose so," Edward conceded. "But that doesn't really _prove_ anything, does it? Couldn't it be just an extraordinary coincidence? Maybe we're both allergic to something they put in the water or whatever."

"My dear fellow, you've hit the nail on the head. 'Extraordinary' is the operative word. Of course we can't prove any of this in the modern, conventional way, in a laboratory or with spectrometers or even test tubes, or the like. But never discount the power of personal experience. Question it, yes that is wise, but don't dismiss it altogether when it is consistent and persistent.

"And Millie has told me that these visions and dreams have been repeated and expanded many times, and with ever increasing detail, yes?"

"Yes, definitely!" the latter affirmed.

"Well, then, the only conclusion I can come to is that they are real and they have been granted to you for a reason. Your mission, if I may put it that way, is to discover what that purpose is, and then act accordingly."

 

"I'm sorry, Millie, but I've never heard such a load of clap-trap in my life," Edward said on the way back to taking her home.

"How can you dismiss something just because _you_ don't understand it, or because it makes you uncomfortable?" demanded MiIlie.

"Because I believe in reason and logic. That sounded more like hocus-pocus or... voodoo."

"Well, I believe there's got to be something in what he said. In fact, I just know it!"

"You can't possibly know that," insisted an exasperated Edward.

"Well, I do."

"How??"

"Intuition," she replied, with a certain degree of coyness in her body language.

He shook his head. "Oh great, why don't we just go the whole hog?! We could start reading the tea leaves or consulting our daily horoscopes from now on. Or maybe even start sticking pins in dolls."

"Well, I don't care what you say, I'm going back to see Professor Lawrence again," asserted Millie, in now surprisingly playful mood. She'd discovered that it was rather fun to watch Edward squirm a bit. Not in an unkind way; she just found him sort of sexy when he started to huff and puff.

"Suit yourself, Millie. Now, shall I see you to your door?"

She flashed him her most dazzling smile and appealing eyes.

_Oh God help me, bedroom eyes._

"Yes, please."

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

"Um...would you like to come in, Edward?"

"Millie...I..." Edward was looking decidedly uncomfortable.

"No, I didn't mean it like  _that_ ," insisted Millie somewhat defensively. 

"Oh, no...of course not...I didn't think..." Edward was now blushing.

Millie smiled. "It's just for a cup of tea, that's all. But don't worry if you haven't got time. I know tomorrow's back to the grindstone for you."

"And for you too, presumably?"

"Actually, I'm on a week's leave. The rest of the team can handle the Hillman case. Well, it's practically done now anyway, isn't it?"

"Indeed," Edward concurred. "So, what will you do all week?" He had his suspicions, but he wanted to hear it from Millie herself.

She looked a little shamefaced. "I think you know, Edward. I'm hoping to see the Professor again, and pick his brains some more."

Edward nearly made a rude remark about supposing that the Professor's brains had been not only picked, but pickled, fried and scrambled over the years, which would account for all his wacky theories; but he thought better of it.

Millie, as he discovered, could be a little spitfire when sufficiently het up. And, in all fairness, he was also becoming fond of her and genuinely didn't wish to offend or upset her.

"Okay, well your choice, of course."

"Look, Edward, I know you don't believe in any of this stuff and until a few days or weeks ago I didn't either, but after what's happened to us I can't help feeling we (or I) may need to be more open-minded.

"I mean, what if the Professor really is right? And even if he's not, don't you think it's an incredible coincidence that both of us had been having the same types of visions and then when we met, we not only recognised each other, we reacted to the same triggers?"

Edward looked down momentarily, as if consulting his shoes for inspiration. He nodded faintly and said, "You mean like the name, 'Dwayne'?"

"Exactly."

"Well, it's certainly a strange coincidence, I'll give you that."

"Thanks," said Millie with a slight smile. "Now, imagine just for a moment that it really _is_ possible that there's something in this; i.e. that this parallel universe stuff _is_ true, and that most of the time we're all completely unaware of it because it's kind of...irrelevant...to our everyday lives.

"But then, if whatever it is that normally prevents us seeing into another world, say a kind of...curtain...or whatever...is somehow breached or even _deliberately_ _parted_ to give us glimpses of ourselves having a kind of co-existence, then that parting could be for a reason."

Edward sighed. "Millie, even if the co-existence in another world theory is true, why does the Professor assume it's necessarily for some sort of cosmic purpose? Couldn't it just be another of life's big mysteries?"

"I would agree with you if this 'breakthrough' weren't happening to _both_ of us simultaneously, Edward. But I still think the fact that we've both been having virtually identical experiences at the same time, and which _included_ each other so that when we met we would _recognise_ each other instinctively, is highly significant.

"You see, it would be unusual for two (or more) people from _one_ dimension to be _simultaneously_ given glimpses _of each other_   _and their mutual surroundings_ in _another_ dimension. In other words, it must be very rare for the parallel worlds to actually overlap each other."

"Maybe," he conceded, as much to keep the peace. "It still sounds extremely far-fetched to me, though." Changing the subject, he asked, "Um...any chance of that cup of tea now?"

"Oops, sorry!" giggled Millie apologetically.

 

Millie thought it was very lucky that she had already arranged some time ago to take the week off. She had originally intended to use the time to catch up with all things domestic and maybe do a little shopping, budget permitting.

Now, of course, the thing she wanted to do most was to go back for another visit ('informal consultation', as he rather gallantly put it) with Professor Lawrence.

She couldn't stop thinking about the last thing he had said when she and Edward were there on Sunday. He had told them that when 'time' or whatever broke through from 'another dimension' it was probably for a good reason, and their 'mission' was to discover what that purpose was and to 'act accordingly'.

Even though Edward had dismissed this as the ramblings of a lonely old crank with too much time on his hands, Millie - not normally a foolish or gullible person - felt mysteriously haunted by those words. She was convinced they contained a sort of premonition and, most important of all, that there was a serious degree of urgency in finding out what the visions (for both of them) actually meant.

_And what they were supposed to do about it._

 

One night Millie awoke from a dream about her friend, Amy. They were on some sort of boat, with all kinds of fancy streamers and colourful decorations in it, and Amy was performing a song for a small crowd of cheering people. Suddenly, after eating something from a shell and taking a drink of something from a shot glass, Amy collapsed and lay on the floor dead, with Millie bending over her, desperately trying to revive her.

Millie screamed, and then the sound of her own screaming woke her from her dream. Shivering, she decided more determinedly than ever to ring Professor Lawrence first thing in the morning and beg to see him urgently for another chat.

 

"Professor, it's so good of you to see me again straight away. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it," said Millie, sitting once again in Professor Lawrence's living room.

"Not at all, not at all. It's a great pleasure for me to have visitors and to find someone who is so interested in my ideas. Of course, they're not only mine; the belief in a parallel universe has been around for a long time. You just happened to stumble upon me through your internet search."

"Professor, one of the things that I confess has troubled me most about what we were discussing on Sunday was when you said that this allowing us to see into the other dimension probably has a specific purpose, and that our 'mission' was to discover it and then act accordingly.

"So, I was wondering whether, if that is the case, there could be any...um... danger... involved?"

The Professor smiled knowingly, but with a trace of sadness in his expression. "I was wondering when you might ask me that, Millie. Yes, I do think that is precisely the sort of reason why the barrier between the two worlds would open enough to let you see in."

"What sort of danger could there be, Professor?" asked Millie, feeling mildly panicky by now.

"What do _you_ think, my dear?"

Millie told him about her dream the night before. "Do you think that was simply a nightmare, or do you think it is part of all this?"

"I'm not sure, Millie, but I strongly suspect the latter. Even though I have written about my theories for many years, I do not claim to understand exactly how (or why) these things always work."

"But surely, unless we were being warned about possible problems or danger, there would be little reason for the dimensional barrier to 'part' and let us see into another world? Surely there has to be a reason?" She knew she was sounding increasingly anxious, but that was how she felt.

The Professor didn't scoff at all. Far from it; he was concerned for her. "I agree, and that's one reason why I'm so glad you came to see me. If we talk through some of these dreams and visions, it may help to gain a clearer understanding of what they mean and, particularly, of what they may be trying to tell you."

"And then, what I ought to do about it?"

"Exactly; although I admit that may be easier said than done. However, it seems to me that there must be a way of averting danger - or at least some of it - otherwise it would be pointless to warn you of it in the first place."

"Well, how does all this happen in the first place? I mean what causes the barrier or curtain to open up? Is it as if the dimensions or universes collide, Professor?"

"I wouldn't have thought it was a collision because such an event would almost certainly cause real chaos, with thousands of people from both dimensions having their lives sort of jumbled up in a very random fashion.

"No, I think that both your and Edward's experiences are quite specific and ordered. Therefore, my theory is that there is a deliberate opening being placed before you both to peer into."

"So, how is it possible to differentiate between a vision that is possibly a kind of message from this other dimension, and an ordinary old nightmare? Often my visions are in dreams, but occasionally they happen during waking hours, too."

"Honestly, I don't know. Sometimes it's in retrospect that we realise the significance of something. It may just have been a bad dream, of course, but on the other hand - considering you've had quite a number of strange and repeated visions - it may turn out to have been part of the other world after all. Perhaps you'll have a better idea in the days or weeks ahead."

 

Eventually, Millie's visit with Professor Lawrence ended and she went home back to her apartment with a heavy heart. On the way to her door, she ran into one of her favourite neighbours, a young man called 'Freddie'.

"Hey Freddie, long time no see. How are you - and how was your visit to your grandmother's?"

"Hi Millie, good to see you again, too. Yes, it was a lovely holiday, thanks, but very hot there."

"Remind me where she lives again? I know it's somewhere in the Caribbean, isn't it?"

"Yes, Trinidad. My mum grew up there, but moved here before I was born."

"Oh, Trinidad as in 'Trinidad and Tobago'? Aren't they quite close to South America? Our ancestors must have been near neighbours. My dad's family came from St. Lucia, also in the Caribbean."

"Yes, technically they are in the Caribbean, but culturally they're similar to Venezuela. Spanish is spoken there as well as English. My mother is bilingual."

"Cool. My mother is French and calls me 'Camille' sometimes. I haven't seen my dad or his family for over 25 years, though. He left when I was only six. Mum says she despairs of finding a man who'll be faithful."

"Oh sorry, that's too bad. My mum was obviously luckier; she and dad are very happy together. She believes in the power of speaking good qualities into your kids whenever possible. Would you believe, she calls me, 'Fidel', which means 'faithful' in Spanish?

"... _Millie??_ Are you alright, Millie? Only, you look as if you've just seen a ghost or something."

Millie shook herself back to reality. "Yes, I'm okay, Freddie, thanks. I've had a lot on my mind lately, that's all. Sorry."

"No, don't apologise. Are you sure you're alright, though?" Freddie was concerned.

"Yes, thanks, I'll be fine. I just need a good hot cup of coffee or something. Don't worry."

"Shall I stay with you for a bit?" he asked kindly.

"No, no, honestly, I'm okay. Really. Thanks again." Millie smiled feebly. For the first time, she looked at her neighbour in a new light and realised that he, too, seemed eerily 'other worldly'.

_Either I'm cracking up or I need to find out what the hell is going on PDQ._

Once inside her flat, she made herself a nice strong coffee and sat down to watch the telly for a bit. A few minutes later her phone rang.

"Hi Mum. Everything ok?"

"I'm so sorry cherie, but I have some terrible news for you. Are you sitting down?"

Millie didn't think life could get much more dramatic. "Yes, Mum, I'm sitting down. What's wrong?"

"I'm afraid it's Amy. Apparently, she was rushed to the hospital in the early hours with severe food poisoning, but she didn't make it. I'm so sorry, darling."

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

"Edward, I'm really sorry to bother you," Millie sobbed tearfully down the phone, "but is there any chance I could see you again soon? Something terrible has happened, and I saw it in my dreams! I swear it!"

"Alright, MiIllie, try to keep calm. I'm coming right over."

Edward jumped in his car and was at Millie's apartment within half an hour, possibly less. Millie hurriedly answered the door to him and fell into in his arms.

Cradling her, he stroked her hair and spoke as soothingly to her as he knew how. "It's okay, it's okay, I'm here now."

"It's NOT okay!" she wailed and was by turns distraught and angry, and then relieved that he had cared enough to come round and be with her straight away. "My best friend has just died!" More tears followed.

"I know, I'm so sorry." Edward was at a loss. Fond as he had become of Millie, he was not used to sobbing women and wasn't sure quite what he was supposed to do.

"Would you like a glass of water? Or coffee?" he asked somewhat helplessly.

"No, I just want to understand why this happened and...oh Edward...I dreamt about it last night! I saw the Professor today and told him all about it and asked him if it was a premonition, and he said he suspected it might be but that only time would tell. And it has! Oh my God, what am I going to do?!"

"Okay, let's sit down and you can tell me all about your dream, Millie?"

Sitting down, Millie recounted her dream to Edward about being on the party boat, with Amy singing, and lots of people laughing and cheering and then - disaster. Amy collapsing, and Millie trying to help, but unsuccessfully.

Even sceptical Edward was shaken. It was bad enough that Millie had just lost her closest pal, but that she had dreamt about it the night before...

_And on top of all those other strange visual happenings too...._

"Have you had a chance to tell Professor Lawrence yet?" he asked her.

"No, not yet. I just rang you straight after Mum and I got off the phone. I need to speak to the Professor about this, whatever you say, Edward!" Millie was feeling a bit defiant.

"Yes, yes, of course," replied a concerned and conciliatory Edward. "I understand."

"No, you don't understand, Edward!! You've been pooh-poohing this whole thing from the start - and now it turns out to be true! I told you! Wah!!" Millie started to sob again and Edward had the sense to stop talking and just put his arms around her and hold her.

"Sorry," he whispered, and kissed the top of her head softly.

She nodded and pressed into him as he instinctively tightened his arms around her.

 _Oh no, this shouldn't be happening to me at a time like this,_ he said to himself. Her close proximity had begun to have an unsettling effect on him.

After a while, her sobs died down and she was able to speak more clearly again.

"Um... Edward?"

"What, love?" _Love??_

"There's something else I want to tell you, as well. It happened just as I arrived back from the Professor's this afternoon."

"Mm hmm?" Edward encouraged her to tell him.

"When I got up to my floor here, I saw one of my neighbours, Freddie. He lives down the hall and is a really nice guy. I hadn't seen him around for a few weeks, so I said 'hello', and we started chatting."

Edward held his breath for a moment, afraid of what Millie might say next.

_Am I going to lose her already? To this Freddie chap?_

However, it wasn't at all what he had expected; it was both better - and worse.

"Anyway, he was telling me about his mother coming from Trinidad in the Caribbean (not very far from my father's family, actually), and that she speaks both Spanish and English. Then he said that she sometimes calls him, ' _Fidel_ ''."

This time Edward stiffened perceptibly at the sound of that name, and Millie noticed his reaction.

"You recognise that name, don't you?"

"Yes. I don't know how or why, but yes," he admitted.

"So do I, and it's not from this world. Oh Edward, what are we going to do??"

"Call Professor Lawrence."

 

"Professor, it is really kind of you to keep seeing us, and especially to come out to my home this time," said Millie with gratitude, and almost apologetically.

"My dear, it really is no trouble at all. I told you that I enjoy sharing my theory with people - particularly now, when I am getting on in years and not able to get out and about so readily to see people and do things."

Edward had stayed with Millie while she'd made the phone call to the Professor, and was still at her flat.

"How are _you_ taking this, Edward, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Well, I admit I was sceptical at first, but there do seem now to be just too many coincidences for me to dismiss it - much as I'd like to," he replied.

"It wasn't so bad until Amy died. Up until then it was almost kind of fun, even though a bit weird," sniffed Millie. "And the thing with Freddie being called 'Fidel', too," she added. "Even Edward said he somehow recognised the name, didn't you, Edward?"

Professor Lawrence looked at Edward, who nodded and said, "Yeah, I did. It was sort of like when Millie's colleague at the office said the name, 'Dwayne'. That was strangely familiar, too. I just have no idea why."

The older man looked thoughtful for a few seconds and then asked, "What does Freddie look like? Does he, for instance, look like he could be connected with the Caribbean?"

"I suppose so," replied Millie. "But that would be normal, wouldn't it, if his mother came from there? He's black, like most native Caribbeans; I'm half white and half black because my mother is European (French, to be precise) and my father was from St. Lucia."

"I asked because in the dreams and visions that you've both been having, you always spoke of tropical seas, sand, palm trees and the like. Now, of course, that in itself could be a description of any tropical part of the world - South East Asia springs to mind - but the link with Freddie/Fidel, who is of Caribbean descent, suggests to me that your particular 'other world' connection is with the Caribbean. Does that make sense?"

Both Millie and Edward agreed. "But what about this 'Dwayne' fellow? Who might he be?" Edward inquired.

"Well, have _you_ ever seen or met him, Millie? As he works in the same building as you?" responded Professor Lawrence.

"Um...yes - I remember now. He changed the water cooler one day several weeks ago. He hadn't long started working there. He's black, too. But I never really had a conversation with him, so I have no idea where he's from."

"So, if he's also of Afro-Caribbean descent, he wouldn't look out of place in the Caribbean..." Edward looked like he might faint now.

"Could Amy's death have been prevented, Professor? Should I have done something about it, since I seem to have foreseen it? Is it partly my fault??" Millie started to weep again, and Edward moved closer and put his arm around her.

"Of course, it's not, darling. Don't even think such a thing! Professor, please tell her it couldn't possibly be her fault," Edward pleaded.

"Edward's right, my dear. Your friend's death is not your fault at all, neither literally nor metaphorically. Not only did you clearly not cause it; you would not have been able to prevent it either," he said sadly.

"How do you know?" asked Millie. "I thought there was some sort of warning idea attached to these visions from another dimension or whatever. Wasn't my dream about Amy a warning of some kind?"

"It may well have been a warning, dear, but since poor Amy was already in hospital, possibly already deceased, at just about the time you were asleep, there is no way you could have warned her, even if you had clearly understood your dream."

"So, what was the point?!"

"I think it's plausible that your dream was telling you that timely warnings are possible. Amy's death may have been a confirmation of that. It... might not have been _her_ death that you were being pre-prepared for," he explained gently. 

"Oh my God," came the whispered response.

"I know; I'm sorry, but it was important that you know, just in case of...well, in case you ever need to be warned again about any other...problem."

"Well, where is Amy _now_ , Professor? If the 'parallel universe' theory is true, what about re-incarnation or heaven, or whatever?" asked Millie.

"I'm sorry again, but about those things I have no knowledge at all. My subject was always the notion of time being the fourth dimension - that's where we get the 'parallel universe' theory from. The concept that time can be lateral as well as linear. That it's not limited to space in the way we usual think of it. I wouldn't like to even guess about those other concepts you've just mentioned."

"Are you saying you don't really believe in them?" asked Edward. He was very aware that Millie was in great need of consolation, and he wondered whether the Professor might be able to give her some hope in that direction.

"No, I'm merely saying that I have no idea, no opinion even, about re-incarnation or the after-life. I am completely uninformed about them, I'm afraid, and so I don't even dare speculate. I regret if that's not helpful to you at this time.

"But - and I do think this is important - I believe that there _is_ still something crucial to come out of these experiences you've both been having. And, unlike poor Amy who didn't share or recognise any of your visions or dreams, Millie, Edward here _does_ , and I believe that is a key point. 

"I feel that the pair of you are connected in an even more vital way than either of you are with your other friends, and that that is the reason for your having near identical visions. _I think you two were 'meant to be,' as it were._

"Please forgive me if that embarrasses you or sounds clumsy, but I think the dream/vision evidence supports my belief."

Edward and Millie stared at the Professor, and then at each other. "Well, what are we meant to do now?" one of them asked.

"Keep your minds open, and I'm sure you'll find out quite soon," answered the Professor enigmatically.

 

"Oh great, that was a big help," grumbled Edward after Lawrence had gone. "And just as I thought he might almost have been beginning to make some sense."

"I'm frightened, Edward," shuddered Millie.

Edward didn't like to admit that he was beginning to feel decidedly uneasy as well, so he squeezed her more tightly and said, "Just hold on to me, Millie. We'll work this through somehow."

"Um...Edward, can I ask you a big favour?"

"Of course."

"Will you stay here with me tonight? Or does that thought horrify you?"

_Far from it; but I may need some self-control..._

 

"I'm afraid I haven't got any other clothes or pyjamas with me. Should I go home first and get some to bring back with me?"

"Oh sorry, I shouldn't have asked. I wasn't thinking straight," answered Millie, feeling both embarrassed and chagrined.

"It's no problem; it won't take me long at all. But will you be okay on your own until I get back?" Edward didn't mean to sound patronising, but the fact that Millie had asked him to stay suggested to him that she might not want to be left on her own at all.

"Yeah, I'll be okay. And Edward - thanks."

He smiled affectionately at her as he departed for his own house, collecting some overnight bits and pieces and a change of clothes for the following day. He was back again at Millie's apartment in less than an hour.

 

Gratefully letting him back in, Millie offered him some supper that she had prepared for them while he was out, and made some tea and coffee. When they had finished, she asked if they could just sit quietly and, for once, not talk about 'the elephant in the room', i.e. the obvious issue that had been consuming their thoughts for the last few days and weeks.

Sitting in her cosy living room, she snuggled up to him as he put his arm around her.

"I know this sounds awful, but I feel like I need some intimacy," she confessed.

"That's quite a natural reaction with grief. I don't think it sounds awful," replied Edward tenderly.

"But is it disrespectful towards Amy?"

"No, not at all. Needing comfort in no way diminishes your love for her or your sorrow at her passing. If anything, I think it confirms it; it shows that you have real feelings, Millie."

"I think I love you, Edward," she said softly.

Hugging her tighter, he replied, "Yeah, me you too, Camille."

_Camille??_

"Sorry, that just slipped out." Edward was stunned at what he'd just unwittingly called her.

"That's okay; actually my mother calls me 'Camille'. After all, it's the French form of 'Camilla'. And I did call you 'Richard' the other day.

"I know this may sound... wacky, but do you think we might be called 'Richard' and 'Camille' in the other world?" she continued.

Edward sighed. "Who knows? Seems to me that anything's possible now."

Millie lifted her face up to his and looked into his eyes. Edward smiled and then leant down gently to place a kiss on her lips. After a while their kissing developed into caressing, and Millie asked him, "Would you make love to me tonight, Edward?"

"Oh yes," he replied hoarsely. "Yes, please."

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

_Thanks for a beautiful night - hope you are feeling better today._

_Sorry about this, but I've had to leave for the office, and I didn't want to disturb you as you looked so peaceful._

_I'll ring you later this morning, or as soon as I get the chance. In the meantime, do give the Professor a call if you need another chat about things._

_See you later, I hope?_

_Love,_

_Edward x_

 

Thus said the note Millie found on her pillow when she woke up alone. Smiling, she held it to her cheek and felt a warm glow - until reality came crashing back in and she remembered both Amy's death and the somewhat cryptic thing Professor Lawrence had said about this death probably not being the main focus of the visions' warnings.

Well, she would try not to think too hard about that just at the moment. She wanted to spend at least one day savouring something lovely and positive in these last few days of madness and tragedy.

About an hour later, as she was finishing washing up the cups and various little other tidying up chores around the apartment, the buzzer rang.

_"Flowers for a Miss Border."_

Sensibly being even more security conscious after recent events, Millie asked the delivery man to wait while she came to the main door of the building, rather than buzz in a stranger who might not have been who or what he claimed to be.

She was not disappointed. The florist's courier handed her a beautiful bouquet of white roses, the loveliest she'd ever seen.

Even more heart-warming was the note attached:

 

_Because I don't know how to say how sorry I am for what happened to your friend._

_And because I don't find it easy to be eloquent about my feelings...._

_About how much you mean to me; how important you are in my life, and how special._

_Edward x_

 

Millie lovingly arranged the flowers in a beautiful vase given to her by her mother one Christmas, and displayed them in pride of place on her living room window sill. She liked the thought of Edward (as well as anyone else who cared to look up) being able to see them in her window, as that part of her flat faced the street.

Although she had determined earlier to try and focus on the positives in her life, namely this special new relationship with Edward, there remained a niggling thought at the back of her mind that she couldn't quite shake off. Well, maybe just a quick phone chat with Professor Lawrence wouldn't spoil things. After all, even Edward had suggested it.

 

"Professor Lawrence?... Yes, it's me again, I'm afraid... That's sweet of you; I'm sure I am a bit of a pest even though you're always so gracious. Well, I've been thinking - obviously(!) - about so many of the things we've talked about, but there was another question that I forgot to ask you.

"Yes, it's about the passage - or experience - of time in the other dimension. Well, what I was wondering was: do you believe that the two time frames or timescales are identical in each world? I mean, for example, in C.S. Lewis' 'Narnia' stories, the children find themselves having a totally different experience of time in Narnia than in this world. But it seems that in my visions/dreams, everything is simultaneous."

_"Well, my dear, the 'Narnia' stories, wonderful though they are, were only ever meant to be fiction. C.S. Lewis may well have had an allegorical purpose in telling them, such as the triumph of good (specifically Christian, in his books) over evil, but I don't think he meant them to be taken literally. They were not to be a template for what actually goes on in other planes, I don't think."_

"I expect you can guess why I'm asking... Yes, it's because if Amy's death happened while I was actually dreaming about it, does that mean there might never be sufficient warning about anything else either? Because if not, then it feels like we're just... pawns... doomed..."

_"No, no, Millie, I don't think we can conclude that because your friend's death seemed to occur while you were mysteriously witnessing it through your dream, it necessarily follows that events in the other dimension will always precisely mirror what happens here. The dimensional barrier, for want of a better expression, is probably not perfectly smooth or straight. There may be kinks and curves - what some have even called 'paradoxes' - in it._

_"Whilst I don't believe that the two time frames are as widely divergent as in the 'Narnia' Chronicles, for example, where one moment here represented many years in their Narnian world, a precision-style parity between the two dimensions is not necessarily true either. I don't think that 'parallel' has to mean corresponding exactly, either in terms of life experiences or nanoseconds."_

"So, there's hope?" asked Millie, faintly encouraged at last.

_"Oh yes, my dear, there's always hope."_

 

"Hi Edward. Thank you for the beautiful flowers! Are you able to come round again today, or do you want to...?"

_"To what, Millie?"_

"Nothing; I just thought you might need a break from me and all the... you know... crazy stuff."

_"Well, the 'crazy stuff', as you put it, is hardly your fault, is it? Anyway, I was going to tell you there have been a couple of new developments in the Hillman case, too... Yeah, I may even go round there soon...depends on what my boss says._

_"Listen,_   _you could always stay at my place tonight for a change. It's up to you. I can't promise to be a miracle worker in the kitchen; you know, my favourite Roast Beef and Yorkshire Pudding has to be left to my mother's skills, but I'm pretty good with takeaway pizza... and beer..."_

"Okay... so... does that mean I get you to myself again tonight, then?"

Edward sighed. _"Well, you're quite a hard person to say 'no' to, aren't you, Miss Camilla Border?"_ he asked playfully.

"Uh huh... I got that from my mother. She's a determined and independent French lady."

_"Why am I not surprised?"_

 

"Let me whisk you away to my castle - or at least my suburban London three-bedroomed semi," said Edward with a broad smile as he arrived after work at Millie's flat. He'd gone there to collect her since she didn't actually know exactly where he lived.

"Oh, it's really nice!" enthused Millie, as she looked around Edward's house. "And you've got a lovely little covered patio out the back."

"Yeah; want to take the beers out there and watch the grass grow?" he joked.

"Yes, please. It's almost like a veranda, isn't it?"

"Well, maybe... if it wasn't in Greater London."

Edward looked at his new girlfriend intently and smiled.

_How on earth did a middle-aged Tax Inspector like me end up with an exotic beauty like her?_

"I really loved the flowers, Edward. I don't suppose you knew it, but white flowers are my favourites. They make up in delicate beauty for what they lack in colour."

"I would have chosen wild orchids, but they were a little hard to come by in London, I'm afraid," replied Edward light-heartedly.

At the mention of the phrase 'wild orchids', Millie looked up sharply and Edward also caught his breath.

_That's another one, isn't it?_

"Sorry," he whispered, as Millie shivered a little.

 

Life went on relatively sedately for the next few weeks, with both Millie and Edward enjoying each other's company. There were more visions and tropical sensory experiences for both of them, but they had almost grown used to them by now. They tended to alternate their time between his house and her flat, managing to juggle work with pleasure.

One morning, after a blissful night at his house, Millie found another of his notes on the pillow:

 

_Darling,_

_So sorry I've had to leave extra early._

_I just remembered something really important about the Hillman case, so off to the office to look up some files before the rest of the mob arrive._

_Make yourself at home and I'll make it up to you later (!)._

_I've left you some money for a cab rather than the tube as it's the least I can do._

_Love you,_

_Edward x_

 

Millie shook her head and smiled. Well, the man was a workaholic, what did she expect?

Feeling oddly self-conscious and out of place in his house on her own, she quickly gathered up her things and actually took the underground back home.

It was earlier than she had anticipated getting up, even on a working day, so she stretched out on her bed to catch up on some much needed sleep after another night with Edward.

Falling into a sound sleep, Millie was suddenly jolted awake from another bad dream.

In it, she could see a house high on a slope and several people inside jumping and larking about. There was also a high balcony or veranda sort of structure, and some patio furniture, a small table and a couple of lounge recliner chairs. And on one of them was Edward; at first she assumed he was just sleeping, but then she had the distinct impression that he wasn't breathing. That he was - dead(?!).

Oh, and what was that thing that appeared to be sticking out of his chest??

Unable to shake herself back to consciousness immediately, Millie was forced to live out some more of her dream. However, this afforded her time to get a clear look at the faces of two of the characters with her on the scene and she saw that they were her neighbour, Freddie, and her workplace handyman, Dwayne.

When at last relief from the nightmare came, a badly shaken Millie dialled Edward's mobile but there was no signal. Then she rang Professor Lawrence to tell him the latest terrible turn of events.

 

_"Okay, Millie, it's perfectly obvious what the warning is but, fortunately, on this occasion, I think you may still have time to act."_

"How?!?"

_"By finding out where he is and literally going to get him. It's possible he may be in danger as we speak, it may be in the near future, but stay with him at all times and don't let anyone you don't trust implicitly anywhere near him."_

"Oh my God, what if it's too late?!" she nearly screamed.

_"I don't think it is yet, but hurry dear. Only, don't panic; he'll need you to stay calm and have a clear head, no accidents."_

 

Attempting to think at almost breakneck speed, Millie tried his mobile again, only to find it still 'unavailable'.

 _Oh pick up, damn it!!_ she shrieked in fear and frustration.

She then phoned his place of work, but was told he was not in the office. _Where the hell was he?!?_

 _Oh my God,_ she thought, as she finally realised where he was. Calling back his office, she asked for any of his colleagues who had been working with him on the Hillman case.

"Hello, my name is Camilla Border of the Department for Work and Pensions. Your colleague, Edward Peale, has been working on one of the same cases as me, and I have good reason to believe that he has not only gone to their address by himself, but that his life may be in danger because of something he discovered.

"I need the Hillman address urgently and, in the meantime, would you please telephone the emergency services and get them to despatch some officers and possibly an ambulance to that address? NOW!!."

There was some hesitation the other end. _"Er...Miss... uh...Border.... yes, well, I suppose that will be alright, but are you sure it warrants calling out the cavalry? The Hillmans are fairly low-key type crooks, I mean they're certainly fraudsters and cheats, but nothing in their file to suggest violence?"_

"Look, you'll need to take my word for it... _okay then, I'll do it,_ JUST GIVE ME THE BLOODY ADDRESS, WILL YOU?!?!"

 

Flying out the door of her apartment with the information in tow, Millie literally ran into Freddie on the way to the stairs. She suddenly had a _Eureka_ moment, and asked him to come with her.

"Oh, Fidel, can you do me a huge favour?? Edward's in terrible trouble and I need someone to help me! Can you come with me now, it's a dire emergency?!? _Please?!? I'll explain on the way!"_

Freddie frowned, and thought to himself that it was very odd that Millie should be calling him 'Fidel', but figured that if she was rattled enough to do that, she must _really_ need his help.

The calm and sensible young man replied, "Yes, of course, I'll do anything I can to help. Do you mind if I give my mate a call, too? He used to be a security guard until fairly recently. He's pretty good if it's brawn you need, and he's quick on his feet too, for a man of his age."

"Yeah, great," shouted Millie as the two of them raced down the street and jumped into a passing taxi. They collected Dwayne ("This is your friend?!? Dwayne?! Thank God!") and drove on through the streets of London.

For Millie, the pieces of the mental jigsaw were finally coming together, as she began to understand the significance of all three men in her life: Edward, of course; Freddie, her gentle neighbour; and even now Dwayne, Freddie's buddy and the odd-job man at her office.

Having flashed her DWP ID (hardly a police badge, but still reasonably impressive to the cab driver), and furnished him with the Hillman's address, they sped off towards the Hillman residence.

 _Please, please God, let me be in time_ , she prayed.

 


	7. Chapter 7

 

While they were in the taxi en route to the Hillman house, Millie put in a call to an old friendly acquaintance who was now working as a Private Detective. She knew that the police would probably never get there in time, especially after however long it would take her to get through to the relevant people and then convince them that investigating a fraud case could turn out to be a life or death situation.

"Hello, can I speak to Chris Pickett, please?...My name is Camilla Border, I'm an old friend of his. Actually, it's very urgent so...great thanks... Chris? Hi, yes, it's Millie here....Yes, I'm okay, thanks. Well, actually, I'm in a bit of a jam and I need help really urgently. There's not much time to explain, except to say I'm in a taxi on the way to ... [the Hillman address] ... and I think it's going to be very tricky.

"Yes...a good friend of mine may be walking into a very dangerous situation and I'm seriously worried... No, I've got two guys with me, so at least I'm not alone, but the Hillmans are a biggish clan and we still may be outnumbered... Oh, thanks, Chris, you're a star!"

"He's gonna come too, then - your friend?" asked Dwayne.

"Yeah, and he's bringing his new Agency partner  - another Private Detective, called...I think he said something like...Humphrey Goody or whatever. Anyway, they'll meet us there. I just hope to God we're in time!"

Dwayne looked at Freddie, as if to say, _She's_ _taking this a bit seriously, isn't she? I mean, how bad can it be?_

 

Eventually, after what seemed an eternity to Millie, but was only about 15 minutes, the taxi sped into the drive of a rather magnificent looking house. They were lucky in that the electric gates were actually open (another cosmic mystery, she wondered later?), and the car pulled up outside the large house.

Freddie asked the driver to wait, just in case they needed a quick getaway; luckily again for them, the driver seemed to think it was all a jolly adventure after what he'd considered a very dull week. Then, getting out of the car, the boys started looking carefully around the grounds very near to the front entrance.

Millie tried to peer through one of the windows, but it was not easy to make out the people inside. Listening out for voices, specifically Edward's, she thought she could hear low conversation near the rear of the property. Wandering round to the back, she spotted him sitting on a garden chair. A woman was approaching him and Millie was sure she could see the gleam of a metal blade or spike.

Remembering what the Professor had said about Edward needing her to keep calm and clear-headed, she made the snap decision not to scream. So, in her best (she thought) Academy Award winning voice, she called out cheerily, "There you are Mrs Hillman! Sorry, I didn't see you round the front. I've got your order - hang on, it's just in my bag here -"

The woman stopped in mid action, staring open-jawed at Millie, while Edward swivelled his head round to stare at her too. She gave him a quick glance and carried on as coolly as possible. "Yes, I'm so sorry, there was a mix up in the stock room, but I've got the right lipstick and eyeshadow for you now."

"Look," snarled the brunette, "I think you've made some mistake. I didn't order any make-up and this is private property. How did you even get in?"

Edward began to recognise his cue, and got up out of the chair and stood and faced the woman. "Yes, um... this is _Helena_ , an old acquaintance from Oxford University days...."

Helena looked suspicious, and tried to hide the impromptu weapon she was holding.

"Freddie, Dwayne, can you come over, please?" called out Millie.

The boys came round to the back garden as soon as they heard her call, and Dwayne said, "Madam, shall I just help you put down that screwdriver? Not much DIY needed out here, I wouldn't have thought," and he very deftly disarmed Helena within seconds.

At that moment, the sound of another car pulling up outside the house could be heard, and the two Private Detectives, Chris Pickett and Humphrey Gooding, confronted some of the other people who looked as if they might either try to help Helena or make a run for it.

A sound of sirens was also heard approaching as Pickett said, "Well, I called out the cavalry, just in case."

"Thank God," sighed Millie and grabbed hold of Edward's arm, vowing never to let go.

 

Sipping tea and coffee, not to mention whiskey and brandy for some, in the offices of the Pickett & Gooding Detective Agency, Edward spoke first.

"I just want to say how grateful I am to you all... I can't thank you enough.... especially you, Millie, for figuring it out and saving my bacon..."

"Well, I'm not sure that I did figure anything out, I just realised where you'd gone and I sensed that you'd be in danger," Millie said modestly.

"I'd like to know what that was all about, please?" asked Freddie.

"Oh... yes," said Edward. "Well, Millie and I, along with some guys from the Fraud Squad at the Met, were all looking into various frauds related to this Hillman clan. We thought it was pretty much all wrapped up and ready to go to the CPS, but then I happened to get sight of a photo of 'Mrs Hillman', and she looked remarkably familiar.

"I then realised that, in addition to all the other shenanigans they were up to, what with false benefits claims, hiding money to avoid tax, and handling stolen paintings, etc., another scam may have been perpetrated by this woman - the woman I knew as Helena Reade, the cousin of an old girlfriend of mine at uni, Alexandra, also known by her friends and family as 'Sasha'. Sasha later married a man called Jim Mower - and he is the man now masquerading as Gordon Hillman.

"Helena and Alexandra came from a wealthy Russian background; their grandfather was in the diamond business, and when he died, he left everything between his two sons, the girls' respective fathers. Unfortunately, Helena's father was hopeless in business, and he ended up losing most of his wealth, whereas Sasha's father had the Midas touch and went from strength to strength.

"Nevertheless, the girls grew up close and did things together, such as shopping, partying and going on holiday, and they even bore an uncanny physical resemblance to one another. Unfortunately, on one of their trips abroad, we heard that Helena had been killed in a tragic accident, while Alexandra had been injured.

"It now transpires that it was actually the other way round; Helena took her cousin's place in order to get her hands on a great deal of family money again - a double tragedy, because Sasha was such a sweet and giving person, she'd probably have left a very generous bequest to her cousin anyway.

"But Helena also had designs on Jimmy, and must have somehow persuaded him to connive at the identity swap; not too difficult, I imagine, as Jimmy Mower comes from a long line of dodgy individuals who sail close to the edge. I suppose the success of their scam must have gone to their heads and they began to think they were invincible. They changed their name to 'Hillman' for added disguise, and even roped in friends and family members on Jimmy's side to expand into other fraudulent activities.

"The game was only up for Helena when I recognised her picture. I did some digging into the background, then rang up and asked to go and see her 'for old time's sake', pretending I thought she was Alexandra all along. The rest is down to Millie, really."

"Yeah, I guess I'm a little surprised at how prepared she was to commit murder. Up till then, the so-called Hillman clan were really just into thieving and fraud, not violence. They were hardly the Mafia or the Triads."

"I think Helena panicked because in addition to any criminal charges, she was terrified of losing face with her family. Amazingly, they had accepted her as Alexandra for years, and if they had found out what she'd done, they would almost certainly have disowned her."

"Well, here's to you, Edward and Camilla, and to us for... riding in on our white chargers," laughed Chris Pickett jovially.

They all raised their respective drinking vessels and toasted success - and a close shave.

"You know, I have to admit that you do all seem quite familiar. As if you were already part of my life," mused Edward, with a slight frown of concentration.

"Maybe we'll all get commendations by the Queen or something, for busting a big crime racket. And that would make us sort of connected, like 'comrades', or 'brothers in arms'," suggested Humphrey Gooding, whose comments were inclined to be a little on the goofy side at times.

"Yeah," snorted Dwayne, "in another life."

 

                     +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

"Camille? Darling? Wake up, sweetheart. It's just a bad dream." Richard was gently shaking Camille, aware that she was in the midst of a nightmare. She'd been weeping and calling out, saying, 'No, no!', until the combination of her own voice and Richard's nudging woke her up.

"What?? What's happened?" she cried out.

"Nothing darling," he replied. You've just had a bad dream."

Looking around the bedroom to get her bearings again, Camille shivered and clung to Richard. Although relieved to find it had only been a dream (a very disturbing one), she was loath to let go of him.

"Oh, you wouldn't believe that dream," she shuddered.

"Tell me about it, if you like," he said gently, humouring her.

"Um... we were... in... London, where... we... met. But we were different people - sort of. Different, but... the same, if that makes sense."

Richard knew it didn't really, but that's what dreams were like; a jumble of the familiar and the unfamiliar, the ordinary and the extraordinary.

"Well, anyway, there was this Professor guy who was sweet but a bit weird, and he had some pretty bizarre theories... And Fidel and Dwayne were in it too, but they were kind of different as well. Oh, and Aimee was in it and - oh, I remember. She died, and it was horrible, just like in real... life....

"And, then... I... somehow had to stop you from... getting... killed... after you'd gone to these peoples' house to confront them about something..."

"Wow, sounds like you had a pretty busy night. And did you save me, then?" Richard asked with a twinkle.

"Yes, I did....well, we all did. Fidel, Dwayne and me, and a couple of other guys."

"A bit like the time you rescued me from that deadly would-be university reunion, eh?" he said wryly. "Turning up pretending to be the Avon lady - and the lads unable to keep a straight face! Well, I'd have died of boredom otherwise, I think."

Camille shuddered again. "Don't joke about that, Richard."

"What do you mean? It turned out to be much more eventful that way, didn't it? 'The Great Escape'!

"A bit upsetting when I had to have Helen arrested back in England for impersonating Sasha though (and James for colluding with her), remember? Thanks to your little prank, I didn't have to spend all afternoon at that awful party, looking at that wretched woman's face and wondering what was wrong with my old friend."

"Yes, thank God you didn't," Camille said quietly.

"So, all's well that ends well. I ended up with you, didn't I?... Camille? Are you alright, darling? Not still upset about the dream, are you? You're awake now, and I'm here. You know... Me? Your loving husband?" He chuckled, giving her an affectionate squeeze. "Why don't I bring you a cup of coffee before the 'cavalry' come trooping in, alright?"

Camille gasped. _"'Cavalry'?"_

"Yes, you know... little Ben and Sara? Your/our loving children?? Crikey, that dream must have been worse than I thought."

"You have no idea..."

"I'll get you that coffee."

Suddenly, having at last come to her senses, she threw her arms around him, crying, "Wait - oh, I love you so much, Edward!" and then paused, mouth agape.

"I love you too, Millie," came the immediate response. "Oh! Sorry... I... I don't know where that came from...?" exclaimed a bewildered Richard.

They stared at each other with a look of semi-shock, before Camille said softly, "I think I do."

Holding him close again, she added, "It doesn't really matter though, because we've got each other forever now, no matter what we're called." 

 


End file.
